Hobgoblin In The White House?

THOUGHTS & OBSERVATIONS

October 30, 1995|By PHILIP TERZIAN and Providence Journal-Bulletin

When overusing an aphorism, it's always a good idea to overuse it correctly. Accordingly, let's remember that Ralph Waldo Emerson did not say that consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, as he's usually misquoted.

No, the sage of Concord declared that a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds - "adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines."There is a difference.

Last week, for example, two prominent politicians - one in the White House, the other dearly wishing he were there - changed their minds in public.

In Washington, Sen. Bob Dole admitted to a group of reporters that his decision last June to return a small contribution to his campaign fund from the Log Cabin Republicans, a homosexual organization, was a mistake.

Meanwhile, in Texas, President Bill Clinton told a roomful of wealthy businessmen that "you will be surprised to learn that I think I raised your taxes too much" in his famous fiscal 1994 budget.

Now, I happen to think that Dole, at long last, came to the right conclusion. Of course, he spoiled it a little by blaming the error on his staff: It was they, not he, who returned the money, thinking that was what he would have wished.

But Dole compounded the blunder at the time by explaining that, since he didn't approve of everything the Log Cabin Republicans believe, he could not accept their money. This, as Dole well knew, was preposterous: Few candidates uniformly endorse the views of organizations (or people) who give them money. If that were the case, it would require a team of metaphysicians to discern the opinions of, say, Dwayne Andreas, chairman of the Archer Daniels Midland agriculture conglomerate, who prudently gives huge quantities of cash to any and all candidates running for public office.

Clearly, Dole's campaign sought to gain points with the religious right by way of some ostentatious rudeness to people who had cast their lot with Dole. It was a needlessly bumptious thing to have done, and Dole has publicly conceded that it was.

For some reason, this has earned him much deeper condemnation than his original insult to the Log Cabin Republicans. For example, political columnist David S. Broder believes that the fact that Dole's staff misconstrued his core beliefs reveals "that he has no such core beliefs - that it is all tactics with him."

A Dole presidency, accordingly, leaves Broder shuddering: There is nothing worse, in his view, than a public flip-flop.

Perhaps so. It is also possible that Dole endorsed his staff's misstep as an act of faithfulness and then, once the dust had settled, clarified his views on the matter. There is such a thing as changing one's mind, after all, which is not the same as pandering.

And pandering, by contrast, is what President Clinton did in Texas. Now, as it happens, I agree with his assertion, too. Not only was the tax increase enacted in 1993 too steep for business, and destructive in the long run, it was too high for individual ratepayers as well. It was also an insult to those, in the middle income ranks, who had heard candidate Clinton promise a tax cut but, once safely in the White House, deliver instead a hefty tax hike. The 1994 elections were the payback.

The problem, of course, is that much of what President Clinton said in Texas was not the truth. The tax increase was not forced on him by recalcitrant Democrats in Congress; it was imposed by the White House on congressional Democrats, who reduced it marginally before passage. Moreover, many who voted for the tax increase imperiled their own careers: Rep. Marjorie Margolies-Mezvinsky of Pennsylvania, whose single vote carried the President's budget in the House, was defeated for re-election largely on that issue.

I'm pleased that her opponent won, but what a reward for loyalty!

Now the president, in his fashion, has made things worse: first, by disassociating himself from his own words the following day, and second, by blaming his (prepared) remarks on the fact that they were made in the evening, when he was weary. Bill Clinton, of course, is a famous night owl.

He is also, I fear, what his critics in both parties contend: Eager to say whatever he thinks his listeners want to hear. The President's views are so reliably capricious that he is willing not only to feed his admirers their favorite meat - it was his fellow Democrat Paul Tsongas who called him the "pander bear" - but is pleased, as he was in Texas, to betray his friends in order to find favor with his enemies.

His friends have every right to be upset, of course, and his enemies won't be persuaded. Call it, as Emerson might have done, a foolish inconsistency.